


You Say We're Just Friends (But Friends Don't Know the Way You Taste)

by WhiteWolfCraft



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: 5 + 1, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Slow Burn, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:09:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23053795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteWolfCraft/pseuds/WhiteWolfCraft
Summary: “I could... help you with that,” Carlos says and Lando feels him roll onto his side. Carlos’ voice is lower than normal, his tone suggestive, and Lando feels something stir low in his gut. He rolls onto his side as well, facing Carlos who is biting his plump lower lip, eyes flicking up and down over Lando before meeting his gaze.
Relationships: Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr
Comments: 28
Kudos: 170





	You Say We're Just Friends (But Friends Don't Know the Way You Taste)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from [Señorita](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pkh8UtuejGw) by Shawn Mendes & Camilla Cabello.
> 
> I was working on a different fic when I heard the line from that song and I really wanted to use that as title, but it didn't fit the other fic very well. So I wrote a 12K fic that works with the title, instead of, I dunno, the other way round. Cause that is how I roll.
> 
> As always my absolute favourite [pronoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pronoe) beta-ed this for me. Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

**Baku, Azerbaijan GP, April 2019**

Azerbaijan is the first time someone outside of the McLaren team mentions that he and Carlos seem close. It is after the race, Lando having finished eight and he is still trying to decide whether he is pleased with that or not. The Sky Sports camera team that have been following him and Carlos all race weekend are packing up and the interviewer, Johnny if Lando recalls correctly, mentions it, framing a statement as a question.

“You and Carlos look to be close,” he says and Lando, in the process of shrugging the top part of his race suit off, pauses to think about it.

He and Carlos get on, having clicked well during that initial meeting in Abu Dhabi last season where Zak introduced them to each other as future teammates. Lando had seen Carlos around the paddock at other races, had exchanged a few words with him as well, but that first official meeting was when Lando knew they would get along well.

He hadn’t seen much of Carlos during the pre-season, only during the occasional team meetings as both of them were training hard to get in shape for the season start. It wasn’t until testing in Barcelona that they had the chance to hang out, Zak taking the team out for dinner on the first day and he and Carlos had talked for most of the evening.

Carlos is older than him, with more race experience, and he seems more mature, but they can joke around together, driving Helen and Charlotte mad with their antics. Carlos seems to genuinely enjoy spending time with Lando, as does Lando.

“Yeah, I guess we are. He is a great teammate to have,” Lando answers Johnny, pushing his race suit down to his waist and grabbing his water bottle.

**Le Castellet, French GP, June 2019**

“How are you and Carlos getting on?” George asks Lando while they are waiting for the old cars to drive up to the grid for the drivers’ parade. They are in France and it is hot, Lando pulling the collar of his shirt away from his neck. He freezes when the question registers, looking away from where Carlos and Max are talking to each other to look at George.

“What do you mean?” he asks, trying to keep him voice even.

“You guys seem really close,” George replies and Lando can’t detect any undertones that would suggest that George _knows_.

“We are, yeah. Carlos is a good teammate,” Lando’s answer sounds too scripted, he knows, and George raises an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry, I got that question a lot in my interviews today. Carlos and I are friends yeah. We’re pretty close,” he amends, struggling for an excuse. He’s going to have to work on his responses if he doesn’t want people to find out just how close he and Carlos really are.

_Canada sucks, plain and simple. Lando messes up on Friday and Saturday and then his goddamn brakes overheat and _melt_ his suspension during the race, 9 laps in and he is done. He is close enough to the pits to walk back to his garage, where he ends up talking to Zak and his engineers and following Carlos’ race on the screens. Carlos finishes 11th, having had his own overheating brakes, and overall the weekend just plain sucks for the whole team._

_Lando tries to be upbeat with the team and the press after the race, stating that he looks forward to the next race and that they’ll do better, but he is glad to be back in his hotel room after everything is done. He is flying back to England with Carlos and most of the team tomorrow and he just needs an evening to himself so he can work through his disappointment and anger._

_It is close to 9, Lando contemplating whether he will fall asleep if he goes to bed now or if he will toss and turn, when there is a knock on his door. Through the spyhole, he sees Carlos in front of his door and he entertains the idea of not opening the door, but Carlos is probably the only one who would understand how he feels right now so Lando pulls the door open._

_“Evening,” Carlos greets him and Lando steps aside to let him into the hotel room. “I brought beers,” Carlos says as he stops in the middle of the room, lifting a white carrier bag._

_“I don’t drink,” Lando replies, frowning a little at Carlos. Carlos knows that he won’t drink during the season._

_“I know, the beers are for me. I got you a coke,” Carlos sets his bag down on the table and removes the cans, passing a coke can to Lando. Carlos leaves one can of beer on the table and stacks the remaining beer and coke cans in the mini fridge._

_“This weekend fucking sucked,” Carlos said, cracking open his beer and sitting down hard on Lando’s bed. Carlos is not one to complain easily but he sounds absolutely frustrated and Lando could do with a good moaning session._

_“Agreed,” he says, opening his coke and sitting down next to Carlos. They clink their cans together, an ironic cheers to the weekend and Lando takes a gulp, the fizzy coke bubbling on his tongue._

_They bitch about the car and its unreliability and the plain bad luck that resulted in five retirements between them in only seven races, Carlos gesturing wildly during his rant. Lando joins in, he knows the engineers and the rest of the team are doing their best and he faults them for nothing, but he would really like to finish a race in the points again. Baku seems so long ago now._

_Two beers for Carlos and another coke for himself later, Lando feels a lot calmer. He is still disappointed, but he feels less angry about it. Carlos finishes his beer and puts the can away._

_“I feel better now,” he says, letting himself fall backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling._

_“Still disappointed though,” Lando says, copying Carlos. It is a double bed but their arms still brush together as they lie next to each other._

_“I could... help you with that,” Carlos says and Lando feels him roll onto his side. Carlos’ voice is lower than normal, his tone suggestive, and Lando feels something stir low in his gut. He rolls onto his side as well, facing Carlos who is biting his plump lower lip, eyes flicking up and down over Lando before meeting his gaze. His brown eyes seem a shade darker than normal, but that could the low lighting in the room._

_“What do you mean?” Lando asks, voice low, the sudden tension between them almost palpable._

_Carlos doesn’t reply. Instead he reaches out, his hand falling on Lando’s shoulder before sliding down, trailing over Lando’s upper arm, causing goosebumps to break out, moving to his side until he lets it rest on Lando’s hip. Lando is biting at his own lip now, thoughts racing through his head._

_“This,” Carlos says, voice husky, running his thumb underneath Lando’s shirt, tracing the skin just above the waistband of his sweatpants, and shivers run down Lando’s spine._

_And well, Lando can’t deny that Carlos is hot. He might have entertained thoughts about his teammate while jerking off, hand wrapped around his cock and eyes squeezed shut while he thought about Carlos’ hands on him, kissing those full lips, imaging that mouth wrapped around him._

_Lando can feel his cock filling up at the thought alone and he meets Carlos’ gaze again, brown eyes dark, his pupils big._

_“Yes,” Lando says and Carlos blinks, before his lips curve up into a small smile._

_“Are you sure?” Carlos asks and Lando reaches down, wrapping his fingers around Carlos’ wrist and moving his hand until it is pressed against his half-hard cock over his sweatpants. _

_“Yes,” he breathes, rolling his hips and Carlos makes a noise, curling his hand around Lando’s dick and stroking him through the fabric. Lando lets himself fall onto his back._

_“Fuck,” Lando curses, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and grinding into Carlos’ hand._

_Carlos withdraws his hand after a minute and Lando lets out an embarrassing whine. Carlos gets up on his knees and reaches for Lando’s sweatpants, tugging them down. Lando gets the idea and he helps Carlos remove his sweatpants and boxers, sitting up partly to remove his shirt as well before Carlos presses him back onto the bed, hovering over him._

_“Come on, you too,” Lando says, tugging at Carlos’ shirt. Carlos gets up, removing his shirt and jeans, pushing his boxers down at the same time. Lando takes a moment to admire Carlos in his full glory, his dick almost fully hard, before reaching out to pull Carlos back on top of him. Their dicks rub together and Lando bites hard on his lip to suppress the sounds he wants to make._

_Carlos kisses him as they grind together, Lando tangling a hand in Carlos’ hair, grabbing at Carlos’ arse with the other. His arse always looks fucking great in his jeans and Lando is taking the opportunity to get a handful. It feels as firm as Lando had hoped and he groans into the kiss._

_“I want to suck your dick,” Carlos says as he pulls away from the kiss, his voice hoarse and his lips slick with saliva, and Lando needs to squeeze his eyes shut and count to ten or else he’ll come right there and then._

_“Is that okay?” Carlos asks, blinking innocently at Lando when he opens his eyes again and the smug fucker has to know exactly what he is doing to Lando._

_“Yes, fuck yes,” Lando managed to get out, using his grip on Carlos’ hair to pull him back in a kiss._

_Carlos pulls away when they are breathless, trailing kisses down his throat, nipping at the fragile skin. He drifts lower, thumb rubbing at Lando’s nipple while he closes his mouth over the other. Lando is left gasping, twisting his hands in the sheets so he won’t pull on Carlos’ hair by accident._

_Carlos grazes his teeth over Lando’s nipple before moving lower and lower, lips trailing over Lando’s sensitive skin. His stubble is rough and scratchy, probably turning his skin red, but Lando doesn’t care. Not when it feels this _good_._

_His cock is fully hard by now, standing up to attention, and Lando jolts when Carlos wraps his hand around the base. He lifts his head to look down, groaning when he is met with the sight of Carlos hovering over his dick, looking up at Lando with dark brown eyes. Carlos smiles, keeping eye contact as he leans down, running his tongue over the tip._

_“Fuck,” Lando curses, letting his head drop back on the bed. He can’t stop his hips from pushing up in Carlos’ grip, forcing Carlos to pin his hips down with his arm._

_Lando moans when Carlos sucks him down, Carlos’ mouth hot and wet, his tongue pressing against the head._

_Carlos sets an unpredictable pace, alternating between swallowing him down, licking at the head and jerking him off loosely while he is catching his breath, puffs of air hitting the wet head of Lando’s cock._

_He takes him down again, not stopping until Lando hits the back of Carlos’ throat and the tight, wet heat feels overwhelmingly good. Lando curses, tightening his grip on the sheets and does his best to not thrust up into Carlos. Carlos’ tongue traces the underside of his cock, pressing into that spot just below the head and Lando moans shamelessly._

_“I’m not gonna last,” Lando manages to say in between gasps and moans, Carlos sucking harder in reply._

_Carlos pulls off, only jerking him off with a tight grip, the slide made smooth from the saliva and pre-come. With a shout, Lando comes all over Carlos’ hand and his own stomach, eyes squeezed shut. He needs a moment to catch his breath, Carlos still stroking his over-sensitive dick with a loose grip, before he can untangle his hands from the sheets and pull Carlos into a frantic kiss._

_Lando reaches down to wrap his hand around Carlos’ dick, feeling gratified by the way Carlos moans into his mouth. He jerks Carlos off fast, using his own come to ease the slide. Their kiss degrades into them panting against each other, pressed close together, Carlos making noises that are driving Lando crazy._

_Carlos comes with a deep groan that Lando can feel rumbling from Carlos’ chest, and Carlos slumps down on top of him with his full weight after._

_“Christ,” Lando mutters, running his clean hand down Carlos’ back and up again while they both try to catch their breath._

_“That was amazing,” Carlos says when he is recovered, pressing a sloppy kiss to Lando’s cheek before rolling off him._

_“Yeah,” Lando replies, his brain still too overwhelmed to come up with a better reply._

_They lie there for awhile longer before Carlos gets up, reaching out to help Lando get up as well. “We should clean up,” he says and Lando looks down, grimacing at the mess of dried semen on his stomach and hand._

_“We definitely should.”_

“That’s good,” George says, pulling Lando from his memories of Canada. “Me and Robert aren’t like that.”

“Carlos and I are a lot closer in age than you and Robert are though. And very different life experiences between you two,” Lando replies, shrugging. George hums but is prevented from answering by someone shouting that the old cars have arrived.

Lando brushes past Carlos when he makes his way to the grid, catching the small grin Carlos gives him from the corner of his eye. They are pretty close indeed.

**Spielberg, Austrian GP, June 2019**

“So, you and Lando?” Nico asks when they are standing around, waiting until it is time for the drivers’ parade. The other drivers are mingling, signing caps for a group of children and chatting with each other.

Carlos hums in reply. He and Nico got along well last season and Carlos likes hanging out with him during race weekends, when they have a moment of down time.

“You two seem really close,” Nico continues.

“You jealous?” Carlos asks with a grin. Nico laughs, drawing the attention of Max.

“What’s up?” Max asks, turning towards them.

“Just saying how Carlos and Lando are pretty close,” Nico says, “a little like you and Daniel were.”

“Hmm, true. You guys do seem pretty close,” Max says towards Carlos and his tone is – Carlos can’t place it. He and Max were teammates for one season and a bit but Max can be so stoic at times and Carlos has no idea what he is thinking.

“We are,” Carlos says, glancing over to where Lando is talking with George and Alex.

_Carlos both expected and didn’t expect Lando’s knock on his hotel room door in the evening after qualifying in Austria. He opens the door for him, Lando smiling at him and purposefully brushing their shoulders together as he strides past Carlos into the room._

_“Grid penalties suck,” Lando says, flopping down on Carlos’ bed._

_“We knew it was coming, with the team deciding to change the power unit,” Carlos answers, following Lando inside and standing next to the bed. He isn’t sure yet if Lando is here to let Carlos rant a little to get rid of his frustrations or if he is here for a different type of release._

_“Still sucks though,” Lando replies, glancing up at Carlos and giving him a look and _oh_, okay, Carlos knows why he is here now._

_“It does. What can you do though?” Carlos shrugs, keeping his voice even and neutral as he sits down on the bed next to Lando._

_“Well,” Lando says, trailing off as he flicks his eyes up and down Carlos’ body, making Carlos feel hot. “I have an idea or two,” Lando continues before leaning over and kissing Carlos._

_Carlos groans and grabs at Lando’s nape to pull him closer, licking at Lando’s lips until he opens up._

_ This thing between them started in Canada, with Carlos going to Lando’s room, knowing that his teammate would be the only one to understand his frustrations, especially after Lando’s own race. He didn’t plan on the evening ending as it did, propositioning Lando and getting off together._

_The morning after had been awkward until Carlos had gathered what felt like the same amount of fearless courage he needs in a racing car and asked if Lando wanted to do that again. Lando’s reply had them late for team breakfast, but Carlos didn’t care._

_Lando breaks their kiss and slides down until he is kneeling between Carlos’ legs, resting his hands on his thighs, thumbs running along the seam of his sweatpants. “This was one of my ideas,” Lando says, looking up at Carlos through his lashes and Carlos curses quietly._

_“You don’t have to,” he says while blood rushes down, his dick getting hard. He runs his hands over Lando’s cheeks, gently cupping his head and Lando’s eyes flutter shut for a few seconds._

_“I want to,” he says as he opens his eyes again, kissing one of the hands cupping his cheek and Carlos sucks in a breath. “Just sit back, yeah,” Lando says, voice low and deep, pressing another kiss to Carlos’ hands before nudging his head free._

_Lando moves his hands closer to Carlos’ dick, which is tenting his sweatpants. He gently runs the tips of his fingers along Carlos’ inner thigh, sending shivers up Carlos’ spine, before hooking his fingers under the waistband of the sweatpants, tugging at them. Carlos gets the hint and he lifts his hips, allowing Lando to pull them off._

_Hands push his thighs further apart, Lando coming closer until he can mouth at Carlos’ dick through his boxers. Carlos curses softly, wanting to fall back on the bed but he can’t bear to tear his gaze away from the sight Lando makes between his legs. The fabric of his boxers is getting wet, clinging to his dick, rubbing over his sensitive skin when Lando presses closer._

_“Lando, please,” Carlos whispers, voice already hoarse while Lando has barely touched him._

_Lando gives him a grin but helps Carlos get his boxers off. Before they can hit the ground, Lando has his lips around Carlos’ cock, sucking at the head, his hand firmly wrapped around the base. Carlos can only moan, long and loud, his hands twisting up the sheets as he grips at them. Lando takes him deeper until Carlos hits the back of Lando’s throat. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Carlos whispers reverently._

_Lando pulls off to catch his breath, jerking Carlos off with a tight grip, thumb occasionally running over the head. He leans forward again, lapping gently at the head while he keeps jerking Carlos off, his other hand fondling Carlos’ balls with a silky soft touch, the complete opposite from the rough grip on Carlos’ cock._

_Lando looks up to meet Carlos’ gaze, long lashes framing his darkened eyes. The picture he makes, kneeling between Carlos’ legs, his curls messy, lips reddened and shining, his tongue flicking out to run over Carlos’ dick. He’s going to be the death of Carlos, looking like that._

_Lando gives him a wink, because he is an idiot, and kisses the head of Carlos’ dick before swallowing him all the way down again. Lando’s mouth is hot around his cock, his tongue pressing against the underside. He swallows and Carlos’ breath hitches._

_“Lando, fuck,” Carlos gets out as he edges closer to the brink, his gut tightening. Lando moves his mouth away, Carlos aches at the loss, and trails his hand from Carlos’ balls to run his fingers over Carlos’ perineum. He wraps his other hand around Carlos’ dick, grip tight, and jerks him off fast, occasionally twisting his grip just so._

_It is enough to take Carlos over the edge and he comes with a groan, falling boneless backwards on the bed, mind completely blank. He can hear Lando moving around until he is suddenly hovering above him, a wide grin on his face. His mouth is red and puffy, lips slick with saliva, a flush on his cheeks, and Carlos manages to bring up a hand to pull him into a kiss._

_It takes a few minutes of messy kissing for Carlos’ brain to recover and he realises Lando is grinding his erection against his hip. It takes another moment for Carlos to gather his wits and reach down, unceremoniously shoving his hand down Lando’s pants and curling his fingers around his dick._

_“Shit, Carlos,” Lando pants against his lips, pushing into Carlos’ hand. It doesn’t take him long to come, his face pressed into Carlos’ neck, his hips stuttering. He slumps on top of Carlos and Carlos wraps an arm around him to keep him close, tiredly nuzzling into Lando’s hair._

_“You feel better now?” Lando asks, voice muffled against the skin of Carlos’ neck. Carlos laughs, cards his clean hand through Lando’s hair._

_“So much better,” he replies and he can feel Lando’s lips curve into a smile against his neck._

“He’s a good guy, well, kid really,” Carlos continues and Nico laughs again.

“You two are both still kids to me,” he says, grinning, gesturing at both Max and Carlos.

“Oi!” Carlos says and Max insults him in Dutch.

“Just kidding, just kidding,” Nico holds his hands up, trying and failing to act innocent.

Their joking attracts the attention of more drivers and it doesn’t take long until a loose circle is formed around them. The subject changes to something else, but Carlos isn’t really paying attention to the conversation. Instead he is looking over at Lando, who is still chatting with the other rookies, wearing his ridiculous shades.

Someone finally gives the signal that the parade is about to start and Carlos follows the rest towards the truck. Max jostles his shoulder when he brushes past Carlos and gives him a look that Carlos can’t read. Carlos lifts an eyebrow and Max shakes his head, giving Carlos a knowing smile, Carlos just doesn’t know what for. He shrugs and gets onto the truck, leaning against the railing next to Nico.

**Monza, Italian GP, September 2019**

In Italy one of the cycling team, Sonny, mentions it. They are clad in the Team Bahrain Merida gear, having just finished their laps of the track. Lando might look ridiculous wearing the cap but he likes cycling. And it is fun to talk with the Merida team, seeing their team dynamics at work. Plus he doesn’t mind ogling Carlos’ arse in those tight shorts.

“You guys look like good friends,” Sonny says as they are having lunch in the McLaren motorhome. Carlos is at another table, chatting with Matej. He changed out of the cycling gear to Lando’s disappointment, but he still looks good, his hair wild for once, not hidden underneath his cap.

“We’re stuck together for 21 weekends,” Lando replies, a bit cheeky and Sonny laughs.

“I’m stuck for longer with that guy, but we aren’t so close,” he says with a nod at Matej and Lando shrugs.

_Carlos invited him to come his place over after he got back from Spain, the summer break nearly over with Spa on the programme for next weekend, and Lando is nervous for no clear reason. Maybe it is because this is the first time Lando would go to his place, although they only live some 20 minutes apart. Or it is because it would be the first time the two of them hang out outside of a race weekend. Or anything team related. Just the two of them, at Carlos’ place. No cameras around, no team members anywhere in the vicinity. No shared hotel room walls with strangers._

_And Lando doesn’t know if Carlos wants to hang out just as teammates, maybe catching up from the summer break, discussing the remainder of the season, or if Carlos has invited him over for a different reason. So Lando spends a ridiculous amount of time in front of his wardrobe, trying to decide on what to wear, if he should go casual with a t-shirt and shorts or jeans or a polo or even a dress shirt._

_He settles on a t-shirt and jeans when he realises he is going to be late and grabs his phone, wallet and car keys, locking the house behind him. He gets in the car, connects his phone to the Bluetooth system and starts the navigation._

_Carlos opens the door as Lando parks behind the car in the driveway and he is similarly dressed as Lando, a shirt and dark jeans, making Lando breathe out in relief. Carlos looks good, even tanner than usual._

_“Hey,” Lando says when he gets out of the car._

_“Hey Lando,” Carlos greets him, pulling him in for a hug when he gets close enough. Lando is surprised for a moment before melting into the hug._

_“This is new,” he says, causing Carlos to chuckle._

_“I missed you,” Carlos says softly, hesitantly and oh, Lando did not expect to hear that. He tightens his grip on Carlos, pressing his nose against his neck._

_“I missed you too,” he says back and Carlos runs a hand through his hair before letting him go._

_“Come in,” Carlos says, stepping aside and Lando walks inside. Carlos closes the door behind him and crowds Lando against the wall. He tilts his head up with a finger under his chin and leans down until their lips meet._

_Lando sinks into the kiss, getting a hand in Carlos’ hair, the other on his waist, pulling him as close as possible. Carlos obliges, stepping closer until they are pressed together, Lando’s back along the wall, and kisses him deeply and without hurry. _

_“I missed this,” he mumbled against Lando’s lips and Lando hums, revelling in the feeling of having Carlos pressed up against him._

_“So this is just a booty call?” he asks teasingly, making a protesting sound when Carlos pulls away._

_“No! Well, if you want to, we can. But that wasn’t the reason I asked you over. I really missed you,” Carlos says, his tone urgent and Lando smiles at him._

_“Hey, I missed you too. And not only for... you know, the sex,” he says, blushing a little. He can leave Carlos breathless and blissed out but he still struggles to say the words. “Although the sex is pretty good.”_

_“Yeah?” Carlos says, a little smug. He grins and it has a wicked edge to it that sets off sparks of desire in Lando’s gut._

_“Fuck,” Lando says softly, tugging Carlos into a messy kiss. Carlos grinds his hips into his and Lando moans, pushing back._

_They keep kissing and moving against each other until Carlos pulls away, panting, pressing his forehead against Lando’s. Lando is hard in his jeans, the fabric uncomfortably tight and he wants to reach down to palm himself but he resists._

_“This really isn’t why I invited you over,” Carlos says and Lando laughs a little breathless._

_“I know. I don’t care though, you’re so hot,” Lando replies, getting another filthy kiss from Carlos._

_“Come on, let’s get inside,” Carlos says, pulling away from Lando. He runs his hand down Lando’s arm, curling his fingers around his wrist and tugging him along._

_He leads them into the living room and Lando takes a moment to look around, seeing the comfortable couches before Carlos pulls him further to the staircase, pausing in front of it._

_“Is this okay?” he asks and Lando isn’t sure what Carlos is implying here but he _wants_._

_“Yes,” he replies and Carlos closes his eyes for a second, desire clear in every line of his body._

_Carlos leads him up the stairs, his nerves betraying him in the way his grip on Lando’s wrist is getting sweaty. He shows him the way to the bedroom, and Lando is barely taking in any details, can only focus on the lust coursing through his veins._

_Carlos drops his wrist to pull off his own shirt, working on his belt after and Lando copies him. He laughs when Carlos shoves his jeans down only to get them stuck around his ankles, almost tripping. Carlos laughs as well and it lightens the tense atmosphere that started to develop._

_ When they are finally naked Lando just looks at Carlos. He is so much tanner than usual, slight tan lines around his hips. He must have been wearing the shortest pair of shorts while on holiday and Lando can’t help but imagine it. He needs to ask if Carlos has any pictures of himself wearing them or just get him to showcase those shorts to Lando at some point. Only so Lando can take them off him again._

_Carlos is looking him up and down as well and Lando flexes his muscles for him, making Carlos laugh._

_“You are ridiculous,” Carlos says, his voice fond and Lando swallows, his throat suddenly dry._

_“Come here,” he says and Carlos steps closer, running a tender hand through his hair before pulling Lando in a kiss. It is sweet and soft, completely different from the hungry kisses they shared downstairs. It makes something flutter in Lando’s stomach._

_But Lando isn’t quite ready to deal with the feelings he is feeling, so he opens his mouth, turning the kiss hungry, stepping into Carlos’ space until they are pressed up against each other and their cocks brush together._

_Carlos groans into the kiss and runs his hands up and down Lando’s sides before palming his arse, pulling him closer, grinding their hips together. It doesn’t take long for Lando to start panting again, breaking the kiss so he can catch his breath._

_Carlos gives him a gentle push towards the bed and Lando pulls away, lying down in the middle of the bed, completely exposed._

_“Shit,” Carlos whispers, barely loud enough for Lando to hear. Carlos stands at the foot of the bed for a few moments, his eyes running over Lando and Lando feels his skin flush at the pure lust in Carlos’ gaze._

_“Carlos,” he says, reaching out with a hand and Carlos gets on the bed, crawling up until he is hovering over Lando, legs on either side of Lando’s hips. He is close enough to touch and Lando leans up to kiss him._

_They grind together and Lando reaches down to wrap a hand around both their dicks, stroking them in a quick tempo. Carlos curses against his lips and wraps a hand around Lando’s, helping him set an even quicker pace._

_The slide is getting slick from the pre-come and Lando feels his climax building, edging closer and closer to the brink. Carlos stills his hand when Lando is nearly there, “I... Lando, I’m gonna come,” Carlos says, panting._

_“Is that not good?” Lando asks, blinking up at Carlos who is turning slightly red._

_“I... I want to come inside you,” Carlos mumbles and Lando needs a few seconds to work out what he said and what it means. He feels his eyes going wide and he wants that, _oh god_ how he wants that._

_“Yes, fuck yes, please,” he manages to get out and Carlos whimpers, leaning down to slot their lips together in a messy kiss._

_Carlos gets up on his knees again and roots around in his nightstand, returning with a small bottle of lube in one hand, a condom in the other, and Lando swallows. Desire is burning in his gut and he wants this. He wants this so much he can barely wrap his mind around it._

_Carlos kneels between his spread legs and opens him up with gentle fingers, spending a good five minutes rubbing over his rim with lube-slick fingers until Lando is gasping, begging “more, please, more”, his fingers digging into Carlos’ shoulders. Carlos obliges, pushing a finger inside. He pauses when he finger is fully inside, his palm pressed flat against Lando’s arse and Lando tries to breathe._

_He has had sex before but it had been an awkward, fumbling mess that had left neither of them satisfied. This was already so much better and Carlos has barely started._

_“Carlos, please,” Lando begs and Carlos bends down, pressing a kiss on Lando’s stomach, the part of Lando he can easily reach. Lando can feel his lips on his skin long after Carlos moves away, until he starts to move his finger._

_It doesn’t take long for Lando to feel that one finger is not enough and Carlos must be able to tell because he presses a second one inside before Lando can beg. Lando whines at the feeling, the stretch, and Carlos pauses again, letting Lando adjust._

_The moment Lando gives him a nod, Carlos crooks his fingers, hitting that bundle of nerves inside Lando and Lando swears his vision goes white._

_“Fuck, Carlos, I need more,” Lando gasps out but Carlos shushes him, slowly pumping his fingers in and out, avoiding hitting his prostate again._

_Lando is a sweaty, panting mess by the time Carlos pushes a third finger inside, the slide easy. Carlos crooks them a couple of times before withdrawing completely._

_“Please,” is all Lando can say, can barely lift his head to watch Carlos roll the condom on. He hears the click of the bottle of lube again and he can only imagine Carlos slicking up his dick._

_Carlos pushes his legs up, encouraging Lando to spread them wider and Lando does. He feels Carlos run a hand over his rim, teasingly dipping a finger inside. Lando wants more, needs more. He can feel his breath hitch when Carlos presses the blunt tip of his cock against his opening, slowly pressing inside. The slide is slick, the slightest burning stretch and then Carlos bottoms out, his hips pressed flush against Lando’s arse._

_“_Fuck_,” Lando pants, his eyes squeezed shut. Carlos feels so good inside him, stretching him open and making him feel so full. He wraps his legs around Carlos’ waist in an attempt to get him even closer and they both groan._

_“_Dios_,” he hears Carlos whisper and Lando blinks his eyes open, meeting Carlos’ gaze, his eyes the darkest brown Lando has ever seen them, his pupils so wide his iris is the thinnest ring around the black. Carlos is trembling all over, his grip on Lando’s hips almost painful._

_“Can I move?” Carlos asks, his voice low and tight. Every line of his body is tense as he holds himself still._

_“Please,” Lando answers and moans when Carlos pulls out and thrusts back in._

_Carlos sets a fast pace, almost out of control, only occasionally grazing Lando’s prostate and Lando doesn’t care. He can only clutch at the sheets and wrap his legs tight around Carlos, hanging on with everything he has._

_Carlos is leaning over him, hair matted with sweat, his muscles flexing as he moves. Lando has never seen anything hotter in his admittedly short life._

_Lando can feel his climax building up in his gut, molten lust rushing through his veins. Carlos feels so good, his scent surrounding him, the grip on his hips anchoring him. The way he moves inside him, filling him, leaving him feeling empty when he almost pulls out, only to fill him back up when he thrusts back inside. He isn’t going to last long and he doesn’t care._

_Lando reaches his peak when Carlos wraps a hand around his cock, stroking just once or twice. Lando arches up, a groan pulled from his chest as he comes all over his stomach and he can hear Carlos curse when he clenches down on him._

_“Lando, _joder_,” Carlos groans, his thrusts losing all rhythm as he frantically ruts into Lando, coming a few moments later._

_He slumps down on top of Lando, Lando letting his legs fall down. He cradles Carlos to him, running his hands through his hair, down his back, back up his sides._

_Lando feels sore, his thighs aching from the way he clung to Carlos, muscles shaking. Carlos is still inside him and Lando feels full and empty at the same time, completely fucked out._

_“Christ,” Carlos groans, pushing himself up to kiss Lando. The kiss is sloppy, their lips sliding over each other, a slick mess._

_They stay like that until Lando pushes at Carlos’ shoulder, encouraging him to slide out of him. He winces at the feeling and Carlos rubs a gentle hand over his hip. It doesn’t help with the uncomfortable feeling but it nonetheless makes Lando feel better._

_Carlos removes the condom, dropping it in the waste basket near the bed and lies down next to Lando, Lando pressing their arms together._

_“So, what did you invite me over for, if not for this?” Lando asks when his brain has recovered enough to put words into sentences again._

_Carlos laughs, digging his elbow into Lando’s side. “I was going to suggest some FIFA and maybe seduce you a little,” he answers. “But then you got out the car looking like that and, well.”_

_“We can still play FIFA, maybe first shower though,” Lando says, gesturing at the drying come on his stomach. It is starting to feel disgusting, sticky and cold._

_“So romantic,” Carlos quips but gets up, pulling Lando up with him._

_“I’m not the one who made a booty call,” Lando teases back, laughing at the face Carlos pulls._

“We just get along really well, you know. We just clicked,” Lando says and Sonny nods.

“That makes sense,” Sonny agrees and Lando steers the subject to cycling, hoping for some tips.

**Greater London Area, Great Britain, November 2019**

The requests for interviews triple after Brazil and the podium, which somehow surprises Carlos. It probably shouldn’t have been a surprise, given that Brazil is his first Formula 1 podium and the first for McLaren since 2014, but he still blinks when he gets told how many publications want to speak to him. He agrees to speak with a few, mostly Spanish ones but a couple of British papers as well.

He is busy preparing for Abu Dhabi, the last race of the season, and celebrating McLaren securing fourth place in the constructors’ championship but he manages to fit one day for the media and writing his column for the F1 website into his schedule. He holds the interviews over the phone, sitting in his office and looking at the third place trophy on his desk.

It is Motorsport that asks about Lando. Carlos thinks they’ve probably heard Lando’s onboard radio after the race.

“Lando was a gentleman the whole day,” Carlos says immediately, “he had a hard day but he still put a smile on his face, which couldn’t have been easy. He was genuinely happy for the team, happy for me. He is a true gentleman, even though he looks like a kid.”

The Motorsport journalist laughs and asks about the podium celebrations next.

_Carlos is still sticky with champagne when they get to his hotel room, the empty bottle of champagne in one hand, the third place trophy in the other. Lando opens the door for them and Carlos wants to crowd him against the wall and kiss him senseless but his hands are full and the wet, cold fabric of his race suit is getting uncomfortable._

_He sets the bottle and trophy down on the table and unzips his race suit down to his waist, pulling off his fire proof shirt. He tosses it into the corner and turns to find Lando leaning against the wall, a small smile on his face as he looks at Carlos._

_“Hey,” Carlos says and does what he’s wanted to do since much earlier, caging Lando against the wall and kissing him._

_“You taste like champagne,” Lando mumbles and Carlos grins, ruining the kiss. “It is kind of gross, to be honest,” Lando continues and Carlos laughs._

_“I need a shower,” he says, stepping away from Lando._

_“Hmm, you do,” Lando says after blatantly looking Carlos up and down, eyes lingering for a little around his waist. Carlos feels hot, elation from the podium still drumming through his veins and Lando’s look sends a spike of want through him._

_“I’ll be quick,” Carlos promises, grabbing a pair of boxers from his suitcase and disappearing into the bathroom. He strips the rest of his race suit and the fire proof trousers off and leaves them in a heap on the floor before he steps into the shower._

_He is fast, just as he promised Lando, and steps out of the bathroom only wearing boxers, still ruffling his hair dry with a towel. Lando is sitting cross-legged on the bed, messing around on his phone but he looks up when Carlos enters the room. Lando tries to school his face into a smile but not before Carlos spots the sadness in his eyes and the way his brow is furrowed._

_Carlos knows that Lando isn’t happy with his own race, he had heard his onboard radio while waiting for the FIA to decide on the penalty or not. And he knows how Lando tends to beat himself up over mistakes he makes during the race, always demanding the best from himself. Carlos hates to see it. He knows Lando is talented, very talented. All he needs is a little more experience and he will be a champion one day._

_But for now, distraction is the only thing that will help. Carlos climbs on the bed next to Lando, grabs his phone and puts it on the nightstand._

_“Hey, I was writing a message,” Lando protests, trying to get his phone again but Carlos uses that moment to gently push Lando on his back, straddling him easily._

_“The message can wait,” Carlos says, lowering his voice on purpose. “You drove a good race today,” he says, running his hands underneath Lando’s shirt and pushing it up until Lando levers himself up, allowing Carlos to take his shirt off._

_“I didn-“ Lando starts but Carlos interrupts him by kissing him._

_“Shut up, you drove a good race today,” he says again after he leaves Lando breathless. A mulish look appears on Lando’s face so Carlos kisses him again to stop him from saying anything. He runs his hands over Lando’s chest, thumbs at his nipples, twisting one gently until Lando moans and arches his back, their groins rubbing together._

_“Is this how you try to convince me I drove well?” Lando asks panting harshly when Carlos moves his lips down, trailing over Lando’s throat. Carlos nips at the spot where throat and collarbone meet, Lando arching up again. He kisses his way up to Lando’s ear, licking at the skin just behind his ear for a moment._

_“No,” Carlos whispers, “this is me thanking you for letting me past on track and joining me on the podium. This is me being grateful to have you as a teammate. To have you as a friend.”_

_“Shit, Carlos, of course I joined you on the podium,” Lando’s hands find their way into Carlos’ hair and he tugs until Carlos gets the hint, slotting their lips together._

_They kiss softly, a stark contrast to the way their hips frantically grind together, and Carlos presses their foreheads together when they break apart. Lando’s eyes are bright, no more traces of disappointment lingering, and Carlos smiles. Mission accomplished._

_“Come on,” he gets up on his knees, helps Lando take off his trousers and boxers, removes his own boxers, and moves Lando around until he is lying on his stomach. Carlos straddles his hips again, groaning a little when his dick is pressed up against Lando’s ass._

_He runs his fingers lightly over Lando’s back, watching the muscles flex underneath his hands, before letting them rest on Lando’s shoulders, digging his fingers into Lando’s neck and the muscles there. Lando groans, relaxing underneath Carlos. The sounds he makes go straight to Carlos’ dick and he rolls his hips, rubbing his erection against Lando’s arse._

_Carlos continues his massage, kneading at the muscles he knows are sore, the São Paulo track an absolute pain with all the left hand turns, especially the long one at the end. Lando keeps making soft noises, almost whimpering, and gets louder when Carlos works his shoulders. For a moment Carlos wishes he has massage oil, wanting to make Lando feel really good, but that would have to wait until they’re back home and he has the whole evening to make Lando feel good._

_“Carlos, I want to come, please,” Lando says, his voice sounding strained as he tries to twist around to look at Carlos, but Carlos presses his hands down on his back, keeping him down. He leans down to press a kiss to Lando’s neck before grabbing the bottle of lube he’s been keeping on the nightstand of hotel rooms since Canada._

_He moves them around again until they are both lying on their sides, Lando’s back pressed against his chest. Carlos slicks them both up with lube and slots his dick between Lando’s thighs, wrapping his hand around Lando’s._

_“Is this okay?” he asks, thrusting a little and Lando hisses a “yes” at him, wrapping a hand around Carlos’ grip on his dick._

_They grind together, Lando forcing Carlos to set a rapid pace and clenching his thighs together, making it a tight squeeze for Carlos to thrust in and Carlos groans._

_Lando is so responsive, arching into Carlos with every little twist of his wrist, soft gasps and moans filling the air. It makes Carlos thrust harder between his thighs, his dick hitting Lando’s balls and they both groan._

_“You feel so good,” Carlos whispers in Lando’s ear, grinning when Lando whines. He tightens his grip on Lando’s cock, increasing the pace. He wishes he could slide inside Lando, feel the hot, tight squeeze around his dick and pull the most delightful sounds out of Lando, but he feels too frantic, struggling to keep his orgasm at bay, wanting Lando to come first._

_Lando does, arching into Carlos, groaning long and loud as he comes all over Carlos’ hand. Carlos follows him after a few beats, the increased pressure on Carlos’ dick by the way Lando tenses up too much for him. He spills all over Lando’s thighs, thrusting frantically before he stills, muffling his moans into Lando’s hair._

_“Jesus that was so good,” Lando groans and Carlos gets out a tired chuckle, keeping his face pressed into Lando’s hair while he tries to catch his breath. He keeps gently stroking Lando until Lando shudders and pushes his hand away._

_“Christ I’m a mess,” Lando whines and yeah, he is when Carlos looks down. The sight of it turns Carlos on, his dick giving a feeble twitch. _

_“Sorry,” Carlos says, pulling away enough for his dick to slip free from Lando’s thighs before stilling again, still pressed up against Lando._

_“Are you really?” Lando asks his, sounding sceptical and Carlos grins into his hair._

_“No,” he replies and Lando huffs, but snuggles closer against Carlos’ chest._

_Carlos lifts his hand, planning to stroke Lando’s side, but he grimaces when he notices it is coated in come and lube. “Okay, let’s go for a shower, again,” he says, carefully getting up and pulling Lando with him, trying to not ruin the sheets any more than they already have._

“Are you sad that you missed the official podium ceremony?” The interviewer asks, the question more than a little leading and Carlos is free to roll his eyes, thankful that it is a phone interview.

“Of course it was different from what you expect when you get to the podium, but in the end I got to celebrate it with the whole team up there and that is something I will never forget. That was special. And we still got to spray some champagne later, so I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out,” Carlos says.

The journalist asks about the drivers’ championship race between him, Pierre and Alex and Carlos shakes off the memories from Brazil and answers the question.

**Abu Dhabi, Abu Dhabi GP, December 2019**

Lando sees Max the Monday after the Abu Dhabi race, before post-season testing starts the next day. It is good to just hang out, no other duties demanding their attention or other people around. Just the two of them chilling in the breakfast area of the hotel Lando is staying at, Max with a cup of coffee, a glass of milk for Lando.

“So, you and Carlos,” Max suddenly says and Lando raises an eyebrow. They were discussing the races Team Redline have planned during the off season so Lando isn’t sure why Max is asking about Carlos.

“Me and Carlos?” Lando repeats, meeting Max’s not-amused stare with his own.

“You guys are closer than I was with Carlos,” Max says, and he still hasn’t asked a question.

“And?” Lando asks, letting his voice trail off. Max stares at him for awhile and his stare is ridiculously intense, blue eyes piercing through him. Lando shifts a little and Max’s gaze flicks down to his neck before looking him back in the eyes.

Lando can feel himself flush and he reaches up, tugging the collar of his shirt back up so the mark Carlos left on him last night is hidden again.

_Lando knocks on Carlos’ hotel room door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It is late, after midnight, but Lando finally managed to slip away from all the festivities and celebrations half an hour ago, shortly after Carlos disappeared. He had gone for a quick shower and a change of clothes and now he is here, hoping that Carlos hasn’t gone to bed yet._

_The door opens, Carlos looking ruffled and a little tired, but he still smiles at Lando._

_“Can I come in?” Lando asks, wringing his hands a little. Carlos nods, stepping to the side so Lando can enter the room and Lando does. He feels stupid for feeling nervous, but he can’t help it._

_“What’s up?” Carlos asks as Lando paces through the room, looking everywhere but at the bed and Carlos._

_“I wanted to congratulate you for getting sixth place,” Lando says, looking at the ground._

_“You already did, after the race,” Carlos replies, stepping in front of Lando so Lando is forced to stop pacing. Carlos places his hands on Lando’s shoulders and Lando finally looks up, meeting Carlos’ gaze._

_“I was thinking of a more private congratulation,” Lando isn’t sure if that sentence makes complete sense but it results in Carlos smiling at him, the traces of tiredness gone from his face, so he thinks his point came across._

_“Were you now?” Carlos almost purrs and Christ. Lando leans up to kiss him._

_They end up on the bed, shirts lost along the way, Carlos on top and Lando normally doesn’t mind that at all, but he wants to try something new today. He runs his hands down Carlos’ side, brushing over the spot that is ticklish and he rolls them over when Carlos laughs, unbalanced. Lando straddles him and has to just sit there for a moment, looking down at Carlos._

_Carlos’ hair is a ruffled mess, his brown eyes dark, his lips puffy from kissing. Lando grinds down a little and Carlos moans softly, his eyes falling shut and Lando feels a thrill of power running through him. He leans down to kiss Carlos, keeping it light and soft, a hand on Carlos’ cheek to keep him from deepening the kiss._

_“I wanted to – like this,” Lando says, grinding his hips down again in the hopes Carlos will get it. Carlos’ mouth falls open and he grips at Lando’s hips._

_“You mean?” Carlos asks, trailing off, moving a hand to palm Lando’s arse._

_“Yeah. I – I already prepared myself,” Lando says, blushing, and Carlos curses._

_“Oh Dios, _yes_,” Carlos groans and Lando smiles, feeling relieved, his nerves settling. He leans down to kiss Carlos, deepening the kiss right away._

_They kiss and kiss and grind together until Lando pulls away, breathing heavily. He gets up to wiggle out of his shorts and boxers, first removing the condom packet he has in his pocket, and helps Carlos get rid of his shorts and boxers as well. He grabs the lube from the nightstand, knowing Carlos doesn’t travel without it anymore, and straddles Carlos again._

_Lando opens the condom and rolls it on Carlos, using the lube to slick him up. Carlos groans as Lando reaches behind him, smearing a little of the lube around his rim._

_“Okay,” he mutters, moving around, a hand wrapped around Carlos’ dick, until he is lined up and Lando sinks down. It is still a little bit of a burning stretch and Lando knows he is grimacing, but the look on Carlos’ face is enough encouragement to keep going until Carlos is fully inside, pressed up against his prostate._

_“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Carlos chants, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands are painfully tight on Lando’s hips._

_Lando is panting, trying to adjust and he appreciates Carlos staying still, which must be hard, the tension in Carlos’ muscles clear. Lando slowly lifts up, sinking back down again and the angle is just fucking perfect, hitting his prostate dead centre._

_“Lando,” Carlos whispers, begging, and Lando picks up his pace._

_“Come on,” he encourages Carlos and Carlos snaps his hips up, causing Lando to groan._

_They find a rhythm, Carlos thrusting his hips up and Lando rides him, his thighs trembling within minutes. Carlos’ grip on his hips is going to leave bruises, Lando knows it already but he doesn’t care. It is so _good_._

_He increases the pace, the muscles in his thighs burning and he might regret this tomorrow, but it feels amazing right now so Lando doesn’t care. Carlos helps him with the pace, pulling him down hard using the grip on his hips._

_When Lando’s thighs threaten to give out, Carlos sits up, Lando now in his lap. Carlos wraps his arms around Lando and thrusts up in him, sliding in deep. Carlos’ lips find Lando’s neck and Lando yelps when Carlos bites down before soothing over the mark with his tongue. Their chests are heaving against each other, skin slick with sweat and Lando balances on the edge, shocks jolting through him every time Carlos hits his prostate._

_He comes with a shout when Carlos gets a hand around him, come landing on both their stomachs and Lando clenches down on Carlos. Carlos curses something in Spanish, thrusting erratically up once or twice before stilling, a groan pressed against the skin on Lando’s neck._

_Carlos falls down on the bed, taking Lando with him and Lando is perfectly content to lie there, wrapped up in Carlos’ arms, exhausted but sated. He nuzzles into Carlos’ shoulder, Carlos’ fingers playing with the short hair at his nape, and he lets his eyes drift shut._

_“We are so doing that again,” Carlos eventually mumbles and Lando laughs, cutting it off with a wince when he feels Carlos slip out of him._

_“Not tonight,” he replies and Carlos hums in agreement, gently palming Lando’s arse._

“You guys seem as close as me and Daniel,” Max says and he flicks his eyes again at the now hidden mark and Lando chokes on air.

“You and Daniel?” he splutters and Max’s grin has a wicked edge to it.

“Yeah, a lot of people always remarked how close we seem. A little bit like you and Carlos now,” Max puts the emphasis on ‘close’, and Lando knows he is gaping at Max with wide eyes.

“We still are, really,” Max says with a small shrug, as if it is nothing, but Lando can see the slight trepidation in his look. It is not a small thing Max is admitting to him here and Lando feels warm in the face of the trust Max has in him.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Carlos and I are very close. Have been for some time now and I hope we stay this close.”

“That’s good to hear,” Max says and the smile he gives Lando is small but genuine. “Daniel and I struggled a little when we were still teammates, but it has been a lot better since his move.”

“That’s really good. Max... I... thank you,” Lando says, unsure if he is thanking Max for trusting him with this secret or for soothing one of Lando’s worries or maybe just for being here and sharing this with him.

“Sure,” Max says, shrugging again, clearly uncomfortable with discussing their feelings so Lando changes the subject back to Team Redline.

**Greater London Area, Great Britain, December 2019**

Autosport ask if they can film the installation of Carlos’ simulator and he says yes, because why not. Jack interviews him at the kitchen table and they discuss why Carlos is getting a simulator. All his reasons are true, he does have a lot of down time when he is home and there are no sponsorship events or press duties and if he can’t drive a real car, a simulator is the closest thing there is to racing. But he doesn’t mention that he wants Lando to spend more time at his place and if Carlos has a sim, Lando can come race at his house.

Carlos gets in the sim after it is installed and they start up iRacing only to realise that none of them have a clear idea how to set it up.

“I’ll call Lando,” Oliver says, turning speaker phone on, “but the chance of him picking up is very slim.”

Lando picks up and Carlos laughs when he says driving the McLaren F1 car is a mistake.

“Lando, you need to come home,” Carlos cajoles him, “I invite you to pizza if you come.” And shit, did he just ask Lando to come _home_ while on camera?

Lando’s “erm” is drawn out, probably feeling as surprised as Carlos is.

“Come on, come spend –” Lando cuts him off just as Carlos wants to say “spend time with me” but it is probably better that Lando cut him off.

“I’m about to do the outlap of my race,” Lando says and Carlos groans at him.

“But mate, come on, you have better things to do than that,” Carlos says and Lando gives in, agreeing to come after his race.

“I invite you to pizza or whatever you want in return for you setting up my iRacing simulator,” Carlos promises.

“Alright, just send me your address,” Lando says.

Lando hangs up and Carlos sends him the text he asked for with the address, making sure that there aren’t any cameras on his when he follows up with: _as if you need my address._

Lando texts him a row of emojis back and Carlos feels old for a second as he only understands what about half of them mean.

The Autosport team leaves, as they don’t really need to film Lando setting up the sim and Carlos lets out a breath of relief when the cameras are gone, but Oliver and Adrian stay to make sure the sim is working.

Lando arrives 45 minutes after the call, greeting his brother with a complicated fist bump and Adrian with a handshake. Carlos gets a clap on his shoulder and he knows they can’t kiss while the others are here, but he still feels a pang in his chest at the meagre greeting.

“Alright, where is the sim?” Lando asks and Carlos leads them back upstairs to the guest bedroom where the sim is standing. Lando gets into the seat and Carlos can’t help but admire the way he flies through the menus, adjusting the settings.

“Do you want it like mine?” Lando asks at some point, hesitating for a moment.

“Yeah, why not. I can always change it later, right?” Carlos says and Lando nods, tapping away at the buttons again.

Five minutes later, Carlos is back in the seat, waiting until the lights go out for the race. He does well in the race and the settings seem fine. He might ask Lando how to tweak a few things, but this is just a test to make sure the simulator works.

“All good?” Oliver asks after Carlos finishes his race in fifth.

“Yeah, the steering wheel is really good,” he says, running a thumb over a couple of the buttons on the wheel. “It feels very similar to my real steering wheel.”

“Good,” Oliver replies, smiling.

Carlos offers to treat everybody to pizza but Oliver and Adrian decline, saying they need to go back to the office. Carlos walks them to the front door and bids them goodbye, watching until they get in the van that held the simulator and drive off.

Carlos steps back into the living room to find Lando standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest, and Carlos stops in his tracks, a chill of fear running down his spine.

“I can’t believe you asked me to come home in front of my brother. He is going to give me so much shit over that,” Lando says, groaning, and Carlos relaxes a little.

“I’m sorry about that, it just slipped out,” Carlos apologises and Lando gives him a grin, relaxing his stern pose.

“You know that this is going to end up on the internet, right?” he says and Carlos groans.

“I can’t believe I said that in front of a camera. Thank god for your comment about the address,” he says and Lando laughs, stepping closer until he is right in front of Carlos. Carlos itches to reach out and rest his hands on Lando’s shoulder, on his waist, but he resists.

“That took some quick thinking,” Lando says and he is the one to actually initiate contact, stepping right into Carlos’ space and resting his hands on Carlos’ shoulders. Carlos copies him and they just gaze at each other for what feels like minutes, tension building between them.

Carlos breaks the moment when he leans forward and kisses Lando like he wanted to when Lando first arrived. Lando opens up for him and Carlos deepens the kiss, tangling his hand in Lando’s curls so he can tilt his head back.

They kiss and kiss until Carlos feels his stomach rumble and he pulls away, laughing. “Did you want pizza or something else?” He asks and Lando thinks for a moment before deciding on pizza.

Carlos orders them pizza, chicken for Lando and anchovies for himself, which Lando pulls a face at. They set the table, Lando moving confidently around Carlos’ kitchen, knowing exactly where to find the plates and utensils. Something flutters in Carlos’ stomach at the sight and he swallows.

They make out like a pair of horny teenagers while they wait, Lando pressed against the kitchen counter and Carlos might have a thing for pressing Lando against walls or doors or counters and kissing him breathless. It gives him a little thrill, the way Lando lets him manhandle him around, letting him crowd close and pin Lando between his body and a solid wall.

They get pulled apart when the doorbell rings for their pizza delivery. Carlos pays the delivery girl, tipping her generously, and carries the pizzas inside.

They eat from plates like proper adults, Carlos trying to cajole Lando into trying a bite from his pizza, Lando pulling hilarious faces as Carlos holds a slice in front of his face. Lando allows Carlos to try his pizza and it is good, Carlos humming a little.

“You sure you don’t want to try mine?” Carlos offers again and Lando shakes his head.

“It is fish, you know how I feel about that.”

And Carlos does. He remembers them trying sushi in Japan, Lando gagging at the sight of the salmon rolls. Carlos considers convincing the team of sneaking in seafood if they film another _Snack Wars_ video but then discards the idea. Lando genuinely doesn’t like fish and teasing him about the same topic again and again gets boring when there’s no chance he’ll ever actually try.

They tidy up when they are both full, Carlos packing away the left over pizza in the fridge while Lando puts their plates in the dishwasher. It feels domestic and Carlos is content, a warm feeling building up in his gut.

“Do you want to watch a film?” Carlos asks, not wanting Lando to leave yet, and Lando nods. They move to the couch, Carlos picking an action film for them to watch but not even ten minutes in and they are making out again. Carlos can’t help himself, having Lando so close to him, in the privacy of his own house, he just wants to touch him everywhere, all the time. And Lando is always so responsive, arching into Carlos’ touch, making soft, needy sounds against his lips.

Carlos gets rid of his shirt at some point, Lando’s disappearing quickly as well, and they lie intertwined on the couch, kissing until their lips are swollen and the skin around Lando’s mouth red from Carlos’ stubble. Carlos is hard in his jeans and he can feel Lando’s erection press against his thigh.

“Do you want to take this upstairs?” Carlos asks, perfectly content to stay here and kiss Lando for the rest of the evening if Lando wants that instead.

“Yeah,” Lando mumbles, his hands running over Carlos’ back, occasionally scratching his nails down and causing Carlos to arch his back into the slight sting.

Carlos untangles them, standing up and adjusting his hard-on so his jeans are a little more comfortable. Lando is blatantly staring at him as Carlos touches himself, his tongue darting out to touch the corner of his mouth, and Carlos feels want run through him.

He offers a hand to Lando, who takes it, and he pulls him off the couch. They hold hands as Carlos leads them upstairs. When they get to Carlos’ bedroom, they shrug out of their jeans and boxers and get under the covers, a slight chill to the air. Carlos slides on top of Lando.

“Hey,” he says and Lando rolls his eyes at him, leaning up to kiss him.

It turns dirty quick, tongues meeting, hands roaming everywhere. Carlos is shamelessly grinding his dick against Lando’s, pre-come making the slide a little slick. Lando reaches down to wrap a hand around both of them and Carlos groans.

He lets Lando jerk them off a couple of time before he reaches down to still his hand.

“I’m too close,” he says and Lando makes an impatient sound. “I want you to come inside me,” Carlos whispers and he can’t describe the noise Lando makes, a mix between surprise and wanton.

“Me? You want me to?” Lando asks, eyes big. As answer Carlos rolls them so Lando is on top, spreading his legs so Lando lies between them.

“Yes, please,” Carlos says, breathless at the thought alone.

“Fucking hell,” Lando whispers and he scrambles to get a condom and the lube from Carlos’ nightstand. He kneels between Carlos’ legs and Carlos helpfully pushes a pillow under his ass, spreading his legs as much as possible.

The click of the lube bottle opening is loud in the otherwise silent room and Carlos gets up on his elbows so he can watch Lando slick up his fingers and reach for him. Lando is tentative at first, running his fingers gently over Carlos’ perineum and rim, spreading the lube around. Carlos tries to push into the touch and Lando seems to get the hint, slowly pushing a finger inside.

It has been awhile since Carlos last did this and he breathes in deeply, willing his body to adjust quickly. Lando doesn’t move his finger until Carlos nods at him and then he starts to slowly pushing his finger in and out, speeding up with every push.

“More, gimme another,” Carlos pants and Lando obliges, working in a second finger as carefully as the first. The stretch burns but in a good way, a way that has Carlos gasping for air, pushing back on Lando’s fingers. Lando curls his fingers, hitting his prostate and lust jolts through his body.

He adjusts quicker to the second finger and Lando dribbles some more lube on his fingers before sliding in a third. Carlos can’t wrap his mind around how gentle Lando is being with him, waiting until Carlos gives the okay to move. It somehow makes everything hotter, and Carlos is pushing back on Lando’s fingers, trying to take them deeper.

“Okay, okay, I’m good,” Carlos gets out and Lando looks up, meeting his gaze. He pulls his fingers out and struggles a little trying to open the condom package, his fingers slippery. He managed to tear it open on the third try and he rolls the condom on, stroking himself a few times to spread the lube around.

“Lando, come on, please,” Carlos whines, begging.

Lando shuffles forward on his knees, gripping Carlos’ hips and lining himself up, meeting and holding Carlos’ gaze as he slowly pushes inside. Carlos wants to squeeze his eyes shut but he can’t, holding Lando’s gaze until he bottoms out.

“_Joder_,” he curses, chest heaving as he tries to pull air into his lungs.

“Christ, Carlos, you feel –” Lando cuts himself off, sounding strained. He is holding still, grip tight on Carlos’ hips. Carlos meets his gaze again and he is hit with the sudden realisation that he loves Lando. It feels like a sucker punch to the gut and he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Carlos, please, can I move?” Lando asks, still sounding strained. His hips jolt forward a little, like he is unable to help himself, but he is still mostly holding himself back.

“Yes, please,” Carlos moans, his breath hitching as Lando pulls out and thrusts in.

Lando sets a slightly frantic pace, pushing in and barely pulling out before he pushes back in. His eyes are closed, his sweaty curls falling over his forehead, sticking to the skin. His skin is flushed, from his cheeks down his neck and chest. He looks utterly gorgeous and Carlos feels completely overwhelmed. The sensation of Lando moving inside him, occasionally brushing over his prostate but never hitting it dead on, and the realisation of his feelings combined is almost too much for him.

Carlos reaches down, wrapping a hand around his dick and he strokes once, twice before he comes with a rumbling groan, covering his stomach with come.

“Shit,” Lando hisses as Carlos clenches down on him and his hips stutter as he comes, jerking into Carlos one last time before he slumps down. Carlos wraps an arm around Lando and keeps him close, nuzzling his hair.

They lie there, catching their breaths and coming down from their highs and Carlos tries to pinpoint the moment he fell for Lando but he can’t. Maybe it has always simmered low in the background and finally boiled over today, Carlos doesn’t know. All he knows is how overwhelmed he feels, adoration for Lando coursing through his veins.

He runs his clean hand through Lando’s sweaty curls, moving them away from his forehead and Lando lifts his head, his eyes still looking dazed. Carlos cups his jaw, running his thumb over Lando’s cheekbone and Lando’s eyes flutter close, nuzzling into Carlos’ touch.

“I love you,” Carlos whispers, unable to keep his feelings to himself, and Lando blinks his eyes open, his eyes shining with something Carlos can’t decipher. He smiles at Carlos, a heart-stoppingly soft smile and presses a kiss to Carlos’ hand.

“I love you too,” and _oh_, Carlos hadn’t even thought about Lando returning his feelings. He has to close his eyes for a few moments, trying to compose himself.

He opens his eyes again and uses his grip on Lando’s jaw to pull him up so he can kiss him, soft and gentle, trying to convey all his feelings that he can’t put it words right now. Lando kisses him back, equally soft, and Carlos is pretty sure Lando got exactly what he was trying to say.

When the drying semen is starting to get uncomfortable they get up, cleaning up in the bathroom and brushing their teeth, Lando using the spare toothbrush that has become his a few months ago. Carlos pauses while he is brushing his teeth, staring at that toothbrush for a few seconds before continuing brushing. He is an idiot for only realising tonight that he loves Lando.

They curl up under the covers, Lando wearing one of Carlos’ shirts as pyjamas. Lando’s chest is warm against his back and Carlos feels incredibly safe and loved, Lando’s arm draped over his waist. They will probably wake up lying apart, Lando somehow having pulled the shirt off without waking either of them, as they have done often by now and again, Carlos is an idiot for only realising his feelings tonight. Hell, he got a simulator partly to get better, partly to have a reason for Lando to come over more often.

He presses closer to Lando and Lando tightens his grip in response. Carlos tangles his fingers with Lando’s and he feels Lando pressing his face against his neck. They fall asleep like that, tangled up, Carlos feeling content.

They wake up the next morning like Carlos predicted, Lando lying beside him with a few inches of space between them, the shirt Carlos lent him nowhere to be seen. Based on the lack of light coming in through the windows, it is still early and Carlos doesn’t have any plans today, so he shifts closer to Lando until their arms are pressed together and lets his eyes fall shut again, quickly falling asleep again.

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title: 5 times Lando and Carlos have sex and 1 time they make love.
> 
> [The Motorsport interview](https://www.motorsport.com/f1/news/sainz-norris-true-gentleman-brazil-podium/4603926/)
> 
> The iconic moment where Carlos asks Lando to [come home](https://youtu.be/zfoKtmAY6Co?t=375)
> 
> Lando [apparently removes his pyjamas while he sleeps](https://youtu.be/bMwGcej_y-g?t=250). This whole interview is glorious.


End file.
